


daybreak

by pomme (manta)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manta/pseuds/pomme
Summary: In which Hunk considers the in-betweens of building rapport.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this out of appreciation for Hunk.

"Hey, Hunk. Could you give me a hand?"

Shiro manages to smile for two seconds before his expression returns to a strained grimace.

"Oh, wow. Um, yeah. Of course!" Hunk notes the enormous propulsion blaster that threatens to flatten Shiro.

"I wouldn't ask," Shiro pants, "But this thing's so heavy-"

"Give me a sec!" Hunk hastily answers, scrambling over. Through their combined efforts, they hoist the blaster onto a cargo tray.

"Thanks a lot." Shiro pauses to catch his breath, and wipes his brow. "The Black Lion's flying has been a bit uneven on the right side, so I wanted to make sure things were OK."

Hunk wasn't sure whether to help or not. As the Black Lion's paladin, Shiro's the leader. Harder to read. Harder to see between the cracks to the core within, this side of untouchable. And frankly, Hunk's just plain intimidated sometimes.

But he has to say it. "If you needed that looked at, we could've moved it together."

Shiro breaks into a rueful laugh. "Yeah, good thing you were headed this way. Really gotta stop doing everything myself, huh? I—" He blinks in surprise. "Allura? Didn't expect to see-"

"Coran says you were trying to carry your lion's propulsion blaster by yourself!" the princess snaps. She's materialized as if from thin air; annoyance, born from concern, has frizzed her hair. "A good thing Hunk was heading this way. If you needed the blaster looked at, we could have moved it together!"

"Sorry, sorry," Shiro says, hands up in apology, dismay on his face. "Not alone. Right. Got it."

Hunk turns away to hide a smile.

 

* * *

 

The Yellow Lion doesn't mind messes, as long as they're cleaned up.

That said, the Yellow Lion doesn't particularly _like_ messes. It rumbles its displeasure that, after they exit this planet of buffeting winds, its disposal chute will need a most thorough cleaning.

"Sorry, not feeling so great," Hunk mutters. "Could you do something about the turbulence?"

The Yellow Lion tells him it's never been piloted by a paladin _this_ prone to motion sickness, but it'll do its best. Hunk's working with the sturdiest of the lot, after all.

Besides, the Lion reminds him, he's quite sturdy himself. 

"Thanks, bud."

That's one of the things Hunk likes about being the yellow paladin: having a partner who is steady, firm, full.

 

* * *

 

It's another one of their "tinkering sessions"— that is, Pidge works on her computer, connecting invisible, intricate threads in cyberspace, while Hunk's taken apart the faulty blaster to examine it.

He loves this. His mechanic's gloves stained black, each segment laid bare before him, knowing that if he connects the pieces the right way, he'll collectively create a beast that hums to life in his hands.

"How about joining me for a bit?" he calls, when Pidge lifts her head to stretch. "You'll find this interesting."

Pidge gives him the once over, notes the grimy state he's in, and shakes her head. "I prefer working with code. Where I only _figuratively_ get my hands dirty."

"Suit yourself," he says, unperturbed.

Later, when they put their heads together, Pidge has found and corrected an error in the Black Lion's programming that gave rise to the faulty blaster. Meanwhile, Hunk's pieced the blaster back together, good as new.

 

* * *

 

"You'd love my family gatherings," Lance says. "Great food, good music, warm weather, nice people. And loud, but I think of the noise as a lot of love."

"Same here," Hunk answers.

They're perched on a balcony overlooking the entrance hall, hands curled round mugs containing a hot liquid Hunk's managed to boil to a consistency resembling hot chocolate. 

Even in their Garrison days, they rarely discussed personal matters. Talks of home happen now they're literal galaxies away from it, and he's suddenly struck by a pang of regret.

Lance props his head on his elbow. "One of my cousins is an aeronautics engineer - something about Mars. I dunno the details, but he's gotten all these grants and he's a genius. I don't have much to talk about with him, but you two would have a lot in common."

 _When we go back to Earth. If we ever do._ It's an offer, a conditional one, and they both know it. But Hunk just says, "That's cool. I'd love to meet him."

"You know," Lance says, "I want to show the Blue Lion around Earth. We could take all the water routes, if it wants. Not 'cause we're restoring balance to the universe together and have to be buddies, or whatever. Just for us to get to know each other."

This is the side Lance forgets to show when he's too convinced of his own bravado. The one he thinks others won't find interesting or appealing.

Hunk begs to differ. 

 

* * *

 

"This is what you see, huh?" Keith pipes up from the back. "Everything's so... yellow."

Today is the Red Lion's turn for maintenance, and so Hunk's taken on another passenger. "Is that a bad thing?" he calls.

"Nah," Keith decides. "It's like extra sunshine. Warm."

They fall silent. They've never needed lots of conversation to feel at ease. But this quiet is more subdued than usual; Keith's been lapsing into thought as of late, and what his mind's pondering, no one really knows. 

The Yellow Lion climbs higher, careful to take gradual steps so as to avoid upsetting its paladin's stomach.

Hunk glances behind him. Keith sits, one leg crossed over the other, like he's folding in on himself. Hunk makes a mental note.

 _I'll leave a blanket there next time_.

 


End file.
